Exodus: Gods & Kings
by MP Cole
Summary: My version of the film with an ethnically appropriate cast. I did not like the original film. This is how I think the story should have been told. A/N: Other characters are based off Historical/Biblical figures. I do not own "Exodus: Gods & Kings".
1. War Room

**1300 BCE**

**For 400 years the Hebrews have been slaves to Kemet.**

**Building its statues, its cities, its glory.**

**In all that time they have not forgotten their homeland.**

**Or their God.**

**God has not forgotten them.**

**Pharaoh Seti I Palace, Memphis**

The humid air of the season of Shemu embroiled in the tense and precarious dilemma of war as the council of Pharaoh Seti I, _He of the god Sutekh_, debated on the most effective strategy to meet the forces of King Muwattali II of Hattusa. Should the sons of Kemet draw them in, waterfowl snared in the fisherman's net?

The voice currently filling the chamber- that of High Commander Khyan. A burly man, strong of build, shaven head and dark in appearance with an authoritarian, introspective look.

"It is true, the Hittite army has 16,000 troops camped outside Kadesh. What is less clear is why.

"The Hittites are trying to the border," interjected Seti's eldest son and heir apparent- the proud, confident and handsome Ramses. "Obviously." His military experience honed from the time he was ten years of age. "What else they be doing?"

"Anticipating a by us, according to our information," Khyan answered. "They we are... preparing an attack, which we are not."

The darkening fact no more sorely felt by two others, Pharaoh himself and Ramses younger brother, crown prince Moses.

At this crucial moment, Pharaoh's Seti's voice rose above those of any who would have followed Khyan. "What I do not want to do, and _will not_ do, is sit here and wait until we are fighting Hittite armies outside the palace walls." The mighty bull may not be in his prime, yet his strength of heart and mind on the intricacies of battle were far from declining. "Come."

Rising from his throne, the council did so around the table, eyes upon the map where they stared, plotted and considered the advantages and consequences of decisions that would save or cost the territories long lost to them. On a golden plate, the body of a sacred white Ibis laid, ready for the divine interpretation of Amun-Ra, to determine if victory or bitter defeat would fall on Kemet. The bowels read by the High Priestess Hetpet. Wife of Jannes, one of Seti's trustworthy members of the priesthood. Intelligent and non-cryptic in her readings, the alluring ebony-skinned woman studies the Ibis organs to tell Pharaoh what message Amun had to impart.

"What do the entrails say?" Seti asked.

"They do not _say_ anything. They imply," Hetpet responded, her tone as frigid as her en-capturing eyes unwavering, "and that is open to interpretation."

Moses and Ramses shared mocking criticizing grins from across the chamber. A habit they had from the time they studied in the House of Life.

"So, then. Will we win or we not in a preemptive attack?" Seti was never one to wait long for circumstances to tip one balance over the other. "Is it a yes or a no?"

Examining the Ibis insides, Hetpet delivered Amun's words. " It is not clear." She cast them into a sacred brazier before a black granite statue of Sekhmet "The Powerful" lioness of war and making an inaudible prayer.

"But something else is. In the battle, a leader will be saved, and his savior will someday lead."

Moses nearly chuckled yet had wise restraint to keep it low. "Then the entrails will also say that we will abandon reason and be guided by omens." Being more learned than a pure devotee, he could not help but laugh at Hetpet's judgement.

Dipping a finger in the Ibis blood collected in a golden cup, Set raised his arms in worship, giving his prayer for glorious victory to the Lady of Slaughter.

"Great Sekhmet, Pharaoh drinks in your name, and prays for victory over the Hittites at Kadesh," and then tasted the sacrifice's blood.


	2. Leaving Memphis

Ramses and Moses departed the war room, Pharaoh's orders having been given, knowing their duties yet brimming with the high conviction and youthful pride princes often exhibit. Moses dark blue robe already wet with spots of sweat, even around his golden collar and arm bands. Ramses regal persona clearly displayed in the linen tunic he wore with a blue shawl across his shoulders, his golden collar and pleated shirt shining in the sun.

"Your first order of business when the time comes, you will retire _her_." Moses said with a hint of jovial vindictiveness in his voice. He always thought Hetpet spoke more than she should have. Queen Tuya and their sister Tiya just as influential but not as pretentious.

Ramses concurred wholeheartedly, "I will. By Amun I do not know why my father has not done so...yet." His tone taking a lighter change. "But, should you see me in any _real _out there, ride the way."

Moses smirked in response. That was the brother he admired, loved and sometimes even envied. A lion never one to let his enemies see his back. Never in his life did Moses ever hear Ramses say the word **cowardice** without wanting to spit on the ground.

"I am serious," Ramses stressed before turning to go put on his armor. A man true to his words than any other Moses knew.

The brothers were called to the royal throne room, their father to give them blessings for Montu's protection and a swift crushing victory over their enemies. In a wooden chest, Seti revealed two iron swords, one for the two of them.

"When I look at you, I see the two boys who grew up together, close as brothers. If, for any reason you ever forget that... Let these remind you. Long to be effective from horseback, not so long that you trip over them."

"This is his. You have mine," Ramses teased.

"That is true. That is how I want it. You have each other's, to keep each safe. Promise me you'll do that... always." Seti's tone tinged with both the honorable expectations of a king and the deepened love of a father to his sons.

The brother's swords clang in unison to the applause of the court. Outside the palace walls the clamor and ear-splitting cheering of the soldiers and citizenry sang high that they carried across the halls.

Ramses embraced his mother, the formidable Queen Tuya. A golden-skinned and lion-heart woman from similar military stock as her husband, also one whose pride and beauty never wavered in her growing years. Moses received the same from his mother Princess Bithia, Seti's sister. The tawny-skinned brown-eyed lady was one of strong idealism and earnest spirit. The princes mounted their chariots and advanced forward. Well wishes and salutations ringing in their ears as the Pharaoh's name reverberated down the sphinx-lined avenue of the palace.

" SETI! SETI! SETI! SETI!"


	3. Hittite Battle

**Kadesh**

**1274 BC**

Ramses and Moses with 20,000 men at their backs led the campaign upon the central city of Kadesh-a prize the great Seti himself had won in his own prime yet snatched by the claws of the Hittites after Kemetian forces withdrew from it.

With their four divisions named for the gods Amun, Ra, Ptah and Sutekh joined with the fearsome elite Na'arn, the princes reached the Orontes river, a stone's throw away from the walled city. Their scout pointing the enemy encampment out.

"There!" the scout alerted them as their eyes fell upon the valley below where across the river lay the forces of king Muwatallis. At the ready, 37,000 infantry and 3,500 war chariots, primed and set to attack. Ramses, ever the one quick to lay out the mode for his pride to strike as he instructed Khyan, much to Moses chagrin.

"Deploy Amun to the north, Ra to the center... and Ptah to the South. We hold Sutekh in reserve."

"In reserve?" Khyan countered, his tone ominous as his jaw cringed.

"Yes," Ramses replied curtly.

The situation and stance had the opposing smell and outlook to Moses, proposing his more _sensible_ approach. "We concentrate our forces in the center.

"You should concentrate yours on fighting," Ramses answered. "Leave the to me."

The Amun division marched behind Ramses, the Re crossing the ford of a district south of the town of Shabtuna. Yet to the south at Arnaim the Ptah was stationed with the Sutekh marching to meet with the crown prince. Steady on the shore of Amurru, Ramses formed the first ranks as the Hittites converged in a wave upon them.

Thundering of horses, shred rushing of arrows and frenzied roaring cries rolled up a storm of carnage.

"Fire!" Ramses arched his bow, firing at an incoming Hittite charioteer in his sight. The Kemetian archers followed suit, breaking past the enemy's front line of shields. Hittite chariots returned the favor, rounding from the north, the Amun division fell as wheat to the wind. Still, Ramses bodyguard did not flag so easily as Muwatalli had probably anticipated. Plundering dead soldiers of any riches they may have carried. The Kemetians launched a counterattack, saving their own camp, alas Ramses still at the mercy of the lion's teeth.

Moses leading the Na'arn from the coast, routed the Hittites. The Ptah division drawing in from the south.

"Charge!" Moses shouted; the fire of combat strong in his stomach. Knocked from his horse, he made quick work of four Hittite warriors.

Ramses chariot nearly crashed into that of the enemy, tossing him to the ground with another threatening to tread over him. Hurling his spear into the wheel spokes, Moses toppled the chariot, his brother's life saved, the prophecy come true. A sudden beat, the choking whipped up dust and stench of blood permeated the battlefield with Moses meeting more Hittites rushing to claim his head. Ramses dispatching one before running the man through with his own spear. His glory not masking the wounds he sustained.

"Take ramses! Go!Go!" Moses commanded Khyan who took the crown prince upon his own chariot.

"Turn around! Turn around!" He ordered the surviving men in six successive assaults upon the enemy, breaking their resolve in each brutal push.

The Hittites pinned against the Orontes, many seeking escape by swimming like crocodiles back across the river, only to meet a watery grave. Chariots and weapons lay abandoned and slick red with blood.


	4. Returning to Memphis

Bathed in Hittite blood, soldiers rich with the spoils of the enemy as the cheers and adjurations of the Kemetian people made the earth rumble, as if Geb himself were laughing. Moses rode through the city, the people chanting his name. Trumpets blare as Moses and Ramses return to the royal palace. Their surviving wounded yet resolute soldiers in plumed chariots lined the route. Lutes were plucked in time to the peoples claps and salutes. With drums and cymbals being played, dancers and acrobats swayed to the victorious rhythms. The sight of the young valiant hawks returned safe and laden in triumph, a spectacle only those who lived through the reign of Tuthmose III would have been familiar with and smiled.

Moses suspected nothing when called to Seti's presence. Cleansed from the stench and gore of battle and wearing a dark tunic, he came as told before the seated Pharaoh. The question that passed his lips was much unexpected.

"Moses, what happened out there?" Seti asked as he sat back on his throne to find relief from the glaring sun.

"Nothing," was Moses curt reply.

This Seti would not settle for. Far in years he is, yet nobody's fool. His eyes directed at Moses with the intensity seen in a confident crocodile.

"I asked the commanders the same thing. They, too, lied- and I am not pleased about it.

"_He_ things something happened," Moses remarked regarding his brother. "But nothing came of it."

"Meaning?" the word lingering heavy on Seti's lips.

"Hetpet, her prophecy." Moses spoke with a hint of caution. "She said she could not see who would win."

"The other _one?" _Seti's eyebrow arched as he took a sip from a glass of wine.

"The leader will be saved, and...so on." Moses held his tongue, the dabbling of seers and self-proclaimed oracles his last concern.

"You saved my son's life?" Seti asked, his face obviously carrying the opposite reaction to the revelation.

"Yes," Moses replied.

"Sit," Seti motioned a hand towards an inlaid ebony chair to the right of him.

"Thank you" is not enough, but...thank you. I know you don't believe in omens or prophecies..."

-"But I do believe," Moses countered.

"Which I do respect," Seti sipped from his glass. He was never one _not _to ever get the last word in any conversation.

"But this is nothing. This does not even make any sense," Moses fought over the subject inside his own mind.

"Because you are not my blood," Seti's words smooth though hit with the impact of a battle ax.

"Yes."

"It is true, you cannot succeed me. Not in the usual way," Seti said with an almost sad regret.

-"Not in any way," Moses could not meet Seti's eyes for a moment. "In any way imaginable, here."

"It is horrible to say this about one's own son, but I... trust you more than _him_ to lead."

Words that have laid many a king to their graves and set their kingdoms afire.

The royal chronicler related before Seti, Moses, Ramses and the assembly of generals and viziers the details of the clash at Kadesh- as Kemetian history will tell it. The brothers shared a tense gaze as the chronicler described every drawn-out scene in detail, which would soon grace the walls of the lord Amun's house of Opet and future monuments Ramses himself would raise to his own glory.

"Facing a desperate fight for my life. Only with the help of the gods did I our attackers, - and rejoin the Ra division."

"Stop there," Seti ordered quickly before turning his focus to his heir.

"Anything you would like to rephrase?" he asked, all to aware his son was clearly transparent.

-"No." Ramses certainly would not risk humiliation in front of the court he would inherit-or in his own father's sight.

"Shall I go on?" the chronicler asked.

-"No, I am sure the rest is sufficient." Seti dismissed the chronicler before turning the council's focus on to the next pressing subject. "What is next that commands our attention?"

"Pi-Ramses," spoke the grand Vizier, a man 50 years of age with the voice expected from a village elder.

"What about it?" Seti asked, subconsciously hoping it was not an internal uprising at the heart of the matter.

"The situation. The slaves," the Vizier said, likely believing no other words were needed to clarify it further.

Seti's answer was immediate. "Fine. Ramses."

"What?" the crown prince's distracting thoughts shattering as beer jug.

"Go up there, meet with viceroy Hegep, look around, make a report."

"Me?" The response drawing the eyes of all in the chamber upon him.

"It will be yours someday. Take an interest in it." Seti's tone bearing the warning fit for a cobra without the bared fangs.

"What else?" The proceedings continued to drag on.

Moses proceeded down the palace torch-lit corridors, the shadows seemingly stronger than the fires themselves. He found his brother Ramses staring at a pit of sacred cobras, messengers of Wadjet, protector of the Pharaohs. Ramses did not hear his brother enter, entranced in his own private thoughts as much to the cobras unblinking slate-colored eyes.

"I will go to see the viceroy," Moses offered.

"No. I shall go," Ramses responded meeting his brother standing to his left.

"It is you."

"It is any general." As much as Ramses dreaded the trip, obligation and loyalty were not to be slung under a carpet.

"I will do it," Moses insisted. Yet his demeanor only had more to propose. "Ramses, can we forget what happened on the battlefield?"

"If our positions had been reversed, I would have saved your life, too." Clearly Ramses was not going to lay this to rest, if not now or in the Duat hereafter.

Moses rubbed his wig-covered head in slight frustration. "I know. I know."

Ramses enticed a cobra, grabbing it by the head as it wrapped around his arm. He picked up a glass in order to collect some of its poison. "It was a good shot. Even if the gods did your aim. A little venom in your blood is a good thing," he said to a stoic Moses, not ignorant of his brother's meaning.

"Makes you less vulnerable to the next bite. Maybe even my father's."


End file.
